


The Grand Escape

by lilmissmimz



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Breaking the Chains, Escape, Escape from Joker, Explosives, Gotham City - Freeform, Gotham City Police Department, Multi, Self-Acceptance, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:41:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmissmimz/pseuds/lilmissmimz
Summary: Needing to put the pain and hurt behind her, Harley makes a break to escape from not only the confines of Arkham Asylum, but also from out of the clutches of the Joker. Through her escape she will change into something...someone different....and maybe...just maybe find a love worth sanity...not insanity.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Like most of my other works, I will have this posted on DeviantArt as well under MissHarleyQuinny.

My world...it has lost all of its color. My heart has lost all feeling. Everything I once knew has now become something...unrecognizable. It has been ensnared within the madness of men. My home has fallen prey to these sickening creatures. One, a creature that was...at one time, a man of justice. The other, a creature of pure chaos.

Now, this...this man...Bruce...is lost within himself with nothing left but a mind imprisoned within the torturous bars of vengeance. Through the eyes of those forced to hold the crippling weight of his actions, one can see vines intertwined with blood and pain. They are shadowed with dread and are paralyzed with a fear that has overwhelmed their very essence.

This...this is all that left of my home. Gotham, a once ever prosperous city has now become a prison within the darkness that has slowly swept over it borders. A darkness so thick one would lose themselves within the void between night and day.

Yet the other, a mad man, has began to fight for dominance within the city. His madness is spreading, overtaking the content life I once had.

Madness is a contagious disease it seems, as it now courses through my own veins, pushing toward what it is I must do tonight. Tonight is the night I rid myself of that wretched man. Tonight, I rid myself of the Joker.

 


	2. Cell Block Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley scrambles to make it out of her cell before the Devil can find her. Will she make it out of it alive....or will she have to face the one man who caused her insanity?

Within Arkham Asylum, life becomes nothing more than a gamble. Each move must be deliberate and well planned. Here, for example, within my cell, I busy myself with the preparations of tonight's battle. Everything must be in place for a quick escape. Letting my eyes fall to under the bed, I see my bag tied securely to its metal bars. As for getting out without a key....I see light seeping through the cracks of the loose cinder block, beckoning me to fall through the rabbit hole. My pale skin flushes with building anxiety as I scratch at my jumper. Underneath, I find comfort in the feel of my leather pants and loose tee.

“You seem tense Harley. What's going through that pretty little head of yours?” Ivy's overly sweet voice drifts over and into my cell. Stretching up onto my toes, I peek through the bars of the door. Ivy, in all her glory, is lounging against her prison cell teasing any man that dares to venture too close. Her seductive gaze captures a poor sap like that of a fly to Venus fly trap.

“Tense as a tight rope Red.” Giving her a wink I fall back into my cell.

Anticipation begins build sending my body into overdrive. I pace my cell like a caged beast keeping a watchful eye for any...disturbances that come from the other side of the block. It had been hours since the last outburst and so far, no casualties. I needed that distraction, where was that reliable piece of trash when I nee-...

A loud crash sounds from down the corridor as guards flee in the opposite direction. Noxious green gas begins to fill the cell block blinding any and all who venture out and into it. The sound of gun shots and orders set me into action. Slipping out of my jumper, I quickly lace up my leather boots and slip on my jacket. _It's now or never Harlz. Just gotta slip out while he's busy._ I throw my hidden bag over my shoulder and kick out the loose block under the bed.

Holding my breath I wait for the sound of approaching feet. Hearing nothing more than the chaos outside my metal box, I toss the canvas bag through the opening. Flipping down and onto my stomach, I shimmy through the hole and into what one would call a locker room. The smell of musk and aftershave assault my senses as I fight against the choking cough burning my throat.

_Locker, Locker, where's the locker?_ A quick scan of my surroundings finds a small H carved into a dented door. Slinking up to the tarnished metal, my hand grips its rusted handle. With a grinding that could wake the dead, the door falls open revealing an arsenal of explosives. _Gotta hand it to Red, she sure knows how to party_. Quickly, I load my bag with my hidden treasures and move toward the door.

The screech of metal can be heard as the cell...my cell...is obliterated by what could only be mindless goons. A blood curdling scream reverberates through the cell block, as the mad man begins scrounging through the rubble. “Haaaarrrrlllleeeeeeeeyy. I know you're here Harrllleeeyy. Where are you my little minx.” His voice sends ice through my veins rooting me to the spot.  _Don't fall for it Harlz...You can do this._ Shaking myself of his captivating lure, I begin inching closer to the door. 

Strapping one of the sticks to the wall between the locker room and the next, I slip out through the opening and into the green abyss. Wrapping my shirt up and over my nose, I move through the poisonous gas leaving sticks of dynamite at each mortared corner. I watch his moves and follow his steps, mine mirroring his, mimicking his motion. Like two dancers moving along to a tango, we circle each other, neither one of us moving any closer to our destination.

“Is that the drumming of a poisoned heart I hear?” Joker's sickening voice creeps through the fog of green, as his eyes finally fall upon me. “Ah...there's my little rat.”

With each step he takes forward, I fall back two more. Setting my last stick of dynamite on the staircase down, I manage to send him a searing smile to match his in challenge.

“Heya Puddin. Miss me?”

The Joker's smile ripped at his cheeks as he moved toward me.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hey Puddin. Wanna Dance?"
> 
> I hope you all like what I've got for you so far. There is much more to come!
> 
> Please feel free to leave any suggestions and or request. I'd love to see what you got!


	3. Breaking of the Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like two predators circling one another, Harley and the Joker face off to see who will come out on top.

His piercing stare struck my heart, pulling at its strings. How had it taken me such a long time to see him for what he truly is?

Before any of this, I might have seen a prince captivating as he was charismatic.

Perhaps he truly had a cloak of endeavors that out shined his inner demons, and wove promises in words that shroud his intentions, justifying his chaotic cause. Perhaps he then had become too angry, too unbalanced in the off kilter blow I dealt him in stabbing him with his own self indulgent knife.

Or perhaps...more likely, I was dew eyed, rendered deaf and dumb by the hiss of his breath more tainted than the nicotine lacing it. Dazzled by the shine of diamonds and the gleam of promises too much; Too much to see the loaded gun he aimed at my vulnerable side.

Empty.

Even at his most charming, this man...this usurper...this snake failed to deliver most often than not. He left me empty. And look at me, now I hold the warm weight of the revolver. It nuzzles my pale palm..I can assuredly see that is indeed full. And now, I am not bound by the dreams etched in lustful feelings. I am no longer drowning in the smokescreen of his indefinite indifference.

I stand with the gun, it is I whom prepares the ready and waiting swift punishment. As I look to him through hooded lids of disgust, I detect that it is he who cowers.

Though he is not quivering, he coils at the lip of the edging dark, poised to strike but concerned with where that might be. His plaything has not only stood up and out of her dollhouse but has turned the whip on him.

And I can't help but appreciate the moment. He doesn't have to seem frail for me to sense him toppling from his lofty perch, and he doesn't have to brandish the blade of a threat for me to know that he has fallen into desperation. Yet I know, as I know that my face is curled into a defiant grin I cannot fight anymore, I know that he, for the first time, fears what I might do. His fear is not ripe as he takes calculated steps about me. He does not allow his emotions to sway even the slightest towards any hint of weakness. As his cronies hover outside the far reaches of detection, they observe silently, ever watchful for the hint he has lost his place as the alpha. But this, he will never allow. Nor do I expect him to. I have known for a time that he did not and never truly love me. My mind falls to that as I know now that I could never truly love him. I cannot say that I rule at his side if I cower under the might of his literal fists and he cannot be entitled to the tender part of the girl in me because he has gagged the boy in him. There is no mercy. There is no consideration, nor morality if all he lives and abides by is in the interest of his own egocentricity. I serve his needs, he serves mine, but that is not love. It never has been and as he had never truly loved me, nothing ails him from pulling his trigger now.

So why call me back? He has no use for me, he can replace me, he will reprimand me, and why all the fuss? Is it because he believes himself to own me?

...

...

I have broken the chain and stand above him, he doesn't know what I can do.

I want to show him, but I am not...him. I cannot do it. I only want to escape. And that is what puzzles him the most, what vexes him and sends a very mortal shiver of ice up his metallic spine. He expects me to swing, to run, to kill. He doesn't understand what I have in mind. At least this gives me the upper hand and the farthest step away from him while he contemplates what he needn't know. It gives me time, and time is all I need. He gives it right to me, as I watch his wheels spin. In the darkest parts of my mind, I have to say I quite like watching him squirm. But I also await the timing needed. The gas pooling around us is ticking a clock by itself, but if this clown buckles under his own hot head like I know he will...I can have the chance at more than freedom. All I need now is time.

“You are, well? Daddy was so...very worried about you, pet.” He opens his arms wide. A gesture of open armed trust, or home or some fluffy shit like that. I could see better. He wasn't asking. He was giving me the chance to change my mind, to make a different choice. Instead I take another step away.

“A cell is a cage, but this kitty's got claws, Sugah.” I reply with no secret meaning to my words. I carry no undertone or message as they are only the first thing that comes to my mind. Allowing my smile to morph into a sneer...I let him think it through as he risks the gas by coming up another step.

“And are we ready to come home?” True to his name, his clown like smile wraps around the deadened skin of his face. Frayed at the edges, it holds back his fury undoubtedly, as the slight groan of the leather surrounding his hand indicates his trembling need to bash me into my old place. He promises no warm welcomes and sweet shelters, only the statement of asserting his dominance upon me again...if I am indeed that lucky. I edge toward him to elude his doubts but pique his curiosity. Our echoing footstep patterns slap the wet pavement as the broken pipes steam and the sirens wail in a chanting background tune.

“Mista J, You know I appreciate the offer but...I just don't think now I could come home to ya. I think it's time Harleen sets off on her own. I hate to be such a botha to ya Sweetums, but I gots to get my own set up, ya dig?”

I know he doesn't. It is not what he will say that decides me now, but how he says it that is the key. And this sweet sucker latched to it, revealing his true colors in all their black-hearted glory. The leech's grin did not spread in ill humor, nor dim to a condemning frown. The lines of his cracked composure waned, his mouth hardening into a stiff line.

“But, my little shrew wherever in this hellspit city do you believe you'll go?” His attempts of affection have little to no effect in his eye and he moves in for the dance before the kill. He doesn't know I am onto that ploy and I can clearly see it, the snake pulling up and fixing me with his dazzling eyes. Only my eyes are not on the enticing lure, I see the scales sliding back to make way for the venomous fangs.

With a shrug I loosen my grip on the business end.

“Somewhere. Anywhere. You'll send my regards, wont'cha?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's to happen next....will Harley be able to escape? And if she does....Will she be able to live with the scars that come with loosing to the insanity of man?


End file.
